


Crush

by INMH



Series: trope-bingo Fanfiction Fills 2018 (1st Half) [21]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: (hudson may be in a bit of denial), (okay maybe it's a liiiiittle more than one-sided), Drama, F/M, Flirting, Humor, One-Sided Attraction, Pre-Canon, Strong Language, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 02:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14392350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: Pre-Game. Hudson has an admirer.





	Crush

“Don’t look now, Joey, but your not-so-secret admirer’s on his way over.”  
  
Hudson had just enough time to fix a smirking Pratt with a burning glare before a smooth voice said, from behind her, “Good _morning_ Deputies!”  
  
Her eyes rolled shut, and she pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. “Hello, Mr. Seed.” When she turned around, she saw John Seed leaning on the hood of the truck, on the opposite side of Hudson and Pratt.

"Please, Deputy- call me John."  
  
“Would you two like a moment alone?” Pratt asked. Hudson was gonna wipe that fucking smirk off his face later.  
  
“Can’t stay, unfortunately- got business in the Whitetails.” John gave Hudson a sweet smile that had a little edge to it; apparently this particular Seed brother had a law degree, and she could see that smile coming out in a courtroom as he defended his scumbag clients, or his lunatic brothers and sister. “I was just curious, Deputy Hudson…”  
  
_Not a chance in hell. I don’t even know what you’re asking and the answer’s no._  
  
“…if you might be interested in joining me for dinner tomorrow night?”  
  
Pratt snorted loudly into his coffee, and Hudson was gratified to see him choking slightly on it.  
  
“Doesn’t Eden’s Gate have a _thing_ about that?” Hudson asked flatly.  
  
“Against _fornication,_ Deputy Hudson, not against having dinner with someone.” He batted his eyelashes so fucking innocently, like he _totally_ only wanted to go to dinner with her and obviously had no interest in sex whatsoever. Whitehorse had some intel that John Seed had- in his words- ‘done more plowing than most of the farmers in Hope County had done in their whole damn lives’.  
  
It occurred to Hudson that her continued refusal of John’s advances was probably only encouraging him; he probably liked the challenge.  
  
As much as she hated to admit it, if Hudson had no idea who John Seed was and who he was associated with, she might have expressed some interest in him. It was just acknowledging a commonly accepted fact that John was an attractive guy- it was difficult to get the reputation he had without having people that were willing to hop into bed with him (hell, Adelaide was still holding out for some hope that she might be able to do the dirty with him. Probably his brothers too, knowing her). As it was, Hudson knew exactly who John Seed was, who he was associated with, and the whole ‘member of an insane cult run by his lunatic older brother’ thing was a bit of a turn-off, to be honest.  
  
“I hear he’s a sadist,” Pratt had muttered to her once. “I think he’s hoping you’ll handcuff him and give him a few smacks with your club.” He’d started laughing hysterically, and Hudson had punched his arm hard enough that he’d been holding it funny later.  
  
“You know that saying, ‘don’t stick your dick into crazy’, Deputy?” Whitehorse had asked her not long after.  
  
“I do, sir.”  
  
“Okay, so in _your_ case, it’s ‘make sure that crazy doesn’t stick its dick in _you._ ’”  
  
And that was what Hudson thought of every time John Seed flashed a smile at her, or offered to buy her a drink (another thing that was strictly prohibited by Eden’s Gate that he did anyway), or otherwise flirted with her: He and his family were the walking embodiment of batshit fucking crazy and she had no intention of getting caught up in any of that.  
  
“That’s… _Sweet_ , Seed,” Hudson said with a smile that was _just_ this side of a grimace. “But I think I’ll have to pass.”  
  
John pouted like a kid that was being told he couldn’t have ice-cream before dinner. “You _always_ say that.”  
  
“Well, that is the drawback of being a cop,” Hudson said lightly. “I’m kinda busy.” _And also, even if I was genuinely interested in you, Whitehorse would kick my ass for dating a guy whose cult we’re probably going to be shutting down one day._ That was one of the reasons Hudson wasn’t shutting him down more forcibly; better that someone like John be sweet on her and frustrated than be pissed at her. That could come back to bite her in a big way later, and Hudson wanted to avoid that if possible.  
  
“What are you even busy doing?” John asked, looking between her and Pratt with obvious confusion. “This is Hope County. Aren’t half your 911 calls teenagers cow-tipping or Sharky Bowshaw setting shit on fire?”  
  
“Oh, we get a lot more than that,” Pratt said easily, grinning like a shark at the older man. “Why, just the other day we got a call about some guys dumping chemicals into the Henbane! Interesting call- you hear anything about it?”  
  
Hudson tensed, and so did John. What Pratt hadn’t said was that the people who’d called in had _sworn_ that the people doing the dumping were wearing jackets with the Eden’s Gate insignia on it. They’d found trace amounts of whatever had been dumped into the river, but didn’t have the results on exactly what it was yet. Hudson turned and sent a warning look at Pratt, _for the love of God, do **not** provoke him, Staci._  
  
“Can’t say I did,” John said, and there was a subtle shift in his tone, which was still courteous and pleasant but with something darker lurking beneath the surface. “I don’t get out of Holland Valley very often.”  
  
“Yeah, I’ll bet you don’t. How about your ‘sister’, Faith? I think she spends a lot of time in Henbane with her little flock of-”  
  
“Pratt!” Hudson hissed. “Go get a coffee.”  
  
“I have a coffee,” Pratt responded defiantly.  
  
Hudson snatched the (nearly finished, from the feel of it) coffee from his hand dumped the rest of it on the ground. “ _Go get another coffee,_ deputy,” Hudson growled pointedly, nodding back to the gas station. Pratt glowered at her; he didn’t like the Seeds and she knew it probably capital-B Bothered him that John, who was a suspicious character at best, was shamelessly flirting with one of his coworkers. But it was a bad, _bad_ idea to openly antagonize the Seeds, and it was an even worse idea for Pratt, a deputy, to be antagonizing John Seed, a lawyer, and making low-key implications about criminal activities done by his family or the cult. Whitehorse would have his balls if they were slapped with some sort of religious discrimination lawsuit because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He’d thank her later.  
  
Right now, though, Pratt turned and stalked back to the gas station, grunting something under his breath that she couldn’t hear. When she turned to face John again, Hudson saw the youngest Seed brother smirking smugly. “That was funny. But it would have been funnier if you'd dumped it on his head.”  
  
Hudson’s eyes narrowed. “Can I ask you something?” Figured it might be useful to take advantage of Pratt’s absence.  
  
“Why yes, you most certainly can.”  
  
“Why is it that you’re interested in me?”  
  
John was quiet for a moment, and those ridiculously blue eyes bore into hers. After a moment, he shrugged and gave a small, slight smirk. “I like strong women,” He said lightly. It was a fairly unhelpful response, because Hudson suspected there was more to it than just that; Whitehorse, for one, was concerned that John might be trying to get into her pants on Joseph’s instruction, thinking that he could (literally) get in bed with the Sheriff’s Department.  
  
But the ‘strong woman’ remark had reminded Hudson of Pratt’s theory: That John liked to be knocked around, and the thought of having kinky sex with a cop was a major turn-on for him.  
  
_Oh God, I think Pratt was right._

Hudson barely, _barely_ managed to hold back outright laughter at the thought of it, of John Seed being handcuffed to a bed and begging her to spank him. She hoped the look on her face was something like innocent amusement at his answer.  
  
“Well, thank you for that compliment,” Hudson said, as smooth as John had been. “But I really am busy. Maybe another time.”  
  
John pouted again, but this time a bit more good-naturedly. He snapped his fingers and pointed to her. “I’ll get you next time, Deputy. You’ll see.” He gave her a little wave and swaggered off down the sidewalk, probably heading back to his car, off to his business in the Whitetails. Hudson watched him go, and only after a moment or two did she realize she was eyeing John’s nice form; maybe it had been a bad idea to imagine that whole kink scenario, because now it seemed a little less funny and a little more hot.  
  
_Don’t even think about it._  
  
_Don’t let crazy stick its dick in you._  
  
_Don’t let crazy stick its dick in you._  
  
Pratt came stalking out a few minutes later. “Your boyfriend gone?” He grunted.  
  
Hudson glared at him. She hauled open the door of the truck. “Get your ass in,” She snapped as she climbed in. “We’re going back to the station, and on the way I’m going to explain to you why you don’t piss off lawyers.”  
  
They had just gotten on the road, and Hudson had just gotten into the swing of her lecture when they passed John Seed’s truck as he pulled out of his parking space. She could see him through the windshield; he’d taken his jacket off, and she could see a significant swath of skin in the v-neck of his shirt and vest. For a split second, their eyes met, and John grinned at her, gave her a little wave. Hudson’s cheeks heated slightly.  
  
_Don’t let crazy stick its dick in you._  
  
_Don’t let crazy stick its dick in you._  
  
“Where was I,” She grumbled.  
  
“‘Something, something, don’t pick on my boyfriend Staci, something, something.’”  
  
Oh, she was gonna kick his ass.  
  
Better yet, maybe she could talk Whitehorse into giving him Testy Festy duty, every Hope County cop’s worst nightmare. She’d heard some scuttlebutt that Zip Kupka and Sharky Bowshaw were teaming up to do something with fire this year; and boy, if a night of _that_ wouldn’t teach Staci Pratt not to piss her off.  
  
An errant thought crossed her mind: _Wonder if the Seeds will be there._  
  
Meaning: _Wonder if **John** will be there._  
  
Hudson shook her head, biting back a groan. What the fuck was she even _thinking_ right now?  
  
_Maybe it’s okay so long as we’re **both** crazy._  
   
-End


End file.
